


Aging Out

by sonofnjobu



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-06-30 21:27:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15760017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonofnjobu/pseuds/sonofnjobu
Summary: Erik is 18 now and has to navigate a world outside of the foster care system.A/N: This is a study in detail writing. It focuses on very real, every day issues of a new adult. Lots of OCs in this one. Can you guess which character is my favorite?CW: Foster Care, Federal Prison System





	1. Chapter 1

Erik rolled over at the jarring sound of his alarm clock. He shut it off quickly as to not wake the entire house. He listened for a moment and carefully watched the bed springs above him. The oxidized coils remained silent and still. Erik’s foster brother Jamal didn’t stir.   **  
**

It was a grey and rainy day. Even the light peaking through the blinds was listless, doing little to convince him to get out of bed. Eyelids heavy, Erik had decided to sleep a few minutes more when he heard the pitter patter of little feet running down the hallway and towards his room.

Six year old CeCe burst through the doorway, her beaded braids announcing her arrival as they clattered around her head. Still clad in her purple star pajamas and clutching a beaten up kitten calendar, she climbed in to Erik’s bed and sat criss-cross-applesauce right next to his head.

Erik shut his eyes tightly and pretended to be asleep just to mess with her. CeCe shook him lightly.

“Ewik,” she whisper-shouted. She had no true sense of volume. She simply changed the timbre of her voice.

Erik grunted in response. CeCe shook him harder, her tiny hand gripping his shoulder.

“Ewik, look!”

Erik popped one eye open and CeCe shoved her calendar in his face. Her chubby little finger pointed to the page where she had carefully written “Erik’s birthday!!!” He gasped in feigned surprised.

“It’s my birthday! Oh my goodness, I almost forgot!” Erik sat up, careful not to hit his head on the bunk above him.

CeCe looked up at him, large brown eyes full of admiration.

“How old are you now?” she asked inquisitively. Erik could see her attempting to calculate behind her eyes.

“I’m 18 today!” he answered her. Her eyes widened in shock.

“Wow! That’s old!” CeCe announced.

“Yeah…” Erik replied quietly, his voice drifting.

The dread of aging out of the system hit him with full force. He wasn’t ready to be on his own yet. Maybe if he just stayed in bed today no one would notice he was now legally an adult.

Hopefully CeCe could keep a secret.

That proved very quickly to be false.

CeCe began to loudly sing Happy Birthday and no doubt woke up everyone else sleeping in the house. The bunk bed creaked and Jamal’s depression in the mattress rolled towards the edge. Jamal’s groggy face appeared from above, visibly irritated. At 13 years old, all he wanted to do was sleep and his foster siblings were getting in the way of that.

“Am I allowed to make a wish on someone else’s birthday? Cause I wish you would shut the fuck up.”

Erik quickly covered CeCe’s ears and hissed.

“Aye, nigga. Watch your language. There are little ears here.”

Jamal rolled his eyes and curled back in to his bed, mumbling about no one caring about his ears. Erik had just released CeCe from her muffled, censored existence when a large clap of thunder shook the house.

CeCe clutched to Erik and screamed. Jamal shot out of bed.

“ALRIGHT! I’m up!” He jumped down from his perch, and landed with a hard thunk. “Is everybody happy? Damn!”

Jamal reminded Erik of a honey badger in the morning. The kid didn’t wear a durag at night, so his hairline was all over the place and he was generally quarrelsome: teeth barred, ready to fight if anyone woke him up even fifteen minutes before they had to leave. He smelled like a honey badger too, Erik imagined. To be fair, however, what thirteen year old boy doesn’t?

Jamal was new to the foster care system, so it didn’t surprise Erik that he was defensive and angry. He had been the same way when he came to his first home. And the second… and the third. He could identify with that anger and only stepped in when Jamal took it out on his little sister CeCe.

They shared the same mother and had arrived eight months prior, clothes stuffed in garbage bags. It was rare for siblings to be placed together, but they had “lucked” out. Erik didn’t ask any questions about their home life. The clenched fists and hot angry tears streaming down Jamal’s face told him enough.

CeCe had immediately taken to Erik, as he had been patient and kind with her. He could feel that Jamal harbored some resentment that CeCe didn’t confide in him. He probably felt like he failed at protecting her.

CeCe remained buried in Erik’s chest until a disapproving cough came from the door frame.

Erik looked up and met the wintry stare of their foster mother Miss Gale.

Miss Gale was not a mean woman, but she ran a very tight ship. Though her skin had begun to sag, her silvery hair was always pulled back in to a very tight bun. She only ever wore slippers in the house and was adamant about keeping a schedule. No one was immune to her many house rules, not even six year old CeCe.

“Excuse me, young lady! Exactly what are you doing in the boys’ room?”

CeCe scooted over and slid off the edge of the bottom bunk. The metal frame caught her shirt and lifted it up off her back. Erik had to unhook her before she could run back to her room.

Miss Gale remained posted at the doorway, looking at him through the top of her bifocals. Erik always felt as if Miss Gale knew whatever he was up to even if he wasn’t up to anything. Like she anticipated his antics before he’d even cooked them up. Today, her face seemed to say that she knew his worries. Her silent refusal to acknowledge his birthday was almost comforting.

Maybe she’d let him stay.

“Hurry up, or you’ll be late for work,” was all she said before she floated away just as silently as she had appeared.

Erik had picked up a part time job at the hardware store down the street. He’d need work experience if he was going to be on his own at 18. He liked to build things, figure out how they work. He didn’t mind carrying boxes and stocking shelves, but his favorite part of the day was copying keys. Cutting through different metals, seeing how strong they were…

But he wasn’t going to work today. He’d asked for this special day off. He washed and dressed like he was though; tripping over CeCe all the way while she enthusiastically brushed her teeth beside him. Jamal had returned to his haunt on the top bunk, so Erik was careful not to disturb him as he retrieved forty dollars from his sock drawer. He shoved the money in his pocket, shrugged on his raincoat, said goodbye to CeCe and Miss Gale, and headed out in to the rain.

Erik hunched his shoulders and pulled his hood a little closer to him as he strode down the street. The rain raced him, falling sideways, urging him to walk a little faster. He passed the hardware store and headed towards the barbershop.

Erik didn’t enter when he reached the shop. He stood anxiously under the awning, looking both ways down the street. He nodding curtly to the jovial older men inside. A portly barber hobbled to the door and opened it into the storm.

“Come on in and stay dry, young blood,” the man offered.

Erik had begun to shake his head and decline when a van rolled up. A sinewy young man leaned towards the open passenger window.

“Erik! Aye! Let’s go, nigga!”

Erik rang through the rain and swung the door open. He plopped down in to the fabric seat, dripping and disheveled. But even though he was almost soaked through, Erik’s heart was soaring. This was the most excited he’d been in months. He could hardly contain the smile on his face as Monty pulled off from the curb.

Monty had graduated a few years before Erik. They’d played basketball together since elementary school and Monty had been there the night Erik’s father died. Since then, he’d been like a brother, putting in a little extra effort whenever it came to Erik. Making sure he stayed in school, helping him move between each new foster home, hooking him up with the hardware job. He was also the only person Erik knew with a whip.

“Should be about 45 minutes to Dublin,” Monty mumbled, balancing an unlit Black and Mild between his lips.

Erik had never seen Monty even light one of those. He just held it in his teeth. Monty insisted he just liked the smell.

They rode mostly in silence. Erik was thankful for it. His excitement quickly turned to anxiety as they careened down the 580. It had been too long since he’d done this and he couldn’t decide if he felt guilt, fear, or something else entirely.

Erik was no closer to discerning how he truly felt when the Federal Correctional Institution came in to view. The stone building loomed over him, making the already grey day even darker. Monty pulled up to the visitors entrance, already teeming with people. Erik took a shaky breath.

“You want me to go in witchu?” Monty mumbled around the cigar. Erik avoided his eyes, looking out at the line.

“Nah, I’m good.”

Monty shrugged his shoulders and reached in to the back seat. He heaved up a giant vinyl CD binder and flipped through it absentmindedly. He grinned a bit as he made his selection and pushed an N.W.A. CD in to the player.

Erik shot Monty a look as “ _Fuck the Police_ ” pumped out of the speakers. Monty merely grinned back at him and reclined his seat, preparing to wait for a few hours. Erik took one more deep breath before darting back out in to the rain.

The line moved fast enough and soon Erik was being patted down by a female guard who had a look on her face as though she permanently smelled something bad. Her latex gloves dragged on his wet jeans and she got uncomfortably close to his junk. Erik attempted not to fidget. He kept his eyes fixed on the clock caged up on the cement wall.

When he was finally cleared, he was ushered in to a thin room with eight stations. He balanced precariously on the stool at station five and peered through the scratched security glass.

Erik’s heart was racing.

He wasn’t sure he could handle this and was contemplating leaving when an alarm sounded and prisoners came walking in single file.

Clad in an orange jumpsuit, her hair beginning to grey at the roots, Erik’s mom sat down in the stool across from him. She picked up the phone, her hands still shackled together and gestured with her eyes for Erik to pick up the phone on his side.

Hands shaking, Erik picked up the phone and held it to his ear.

“Happy Birthday, baby!” his mother sighed.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner, mama,” Erik apologized, struggling to look at her. She shook her head and smiled. Her eyes used to disappear in to her cheeks when she smiled. Now her face was rather gaunt. Her voice however, was as warm as ever.

“We’re a long way from home, Erik. There’s no way you can get here every weekend. I’m just glad to see my baby on his birthday! Eighteen!”

“I got you something,” Erik dug around in his wet pockets. He pulled out the forty dollars he’d brought and held it up to the glass. “For your commissary.”

“No no, you keep your money,” his mother refused. “Your daddy’s got me set up in here.”

Erik winced at the mention of his father. He missed him a lot today.

“You’re just like him, you know,” she hummed, a dreamy look of reminiscing on her face. “Always tryna save the world.”

Erik had nothing to say to that. He didn’t feel as if he’d ever tried to save the world. Why should he save a world that had no desire to save kids like him?

“So what are you gonna do now that you’re eighteen, Erik?” his mother asked. She was straight up about it, conscious of the limited time they had. “I’m sorry I don’t have a cake or presents for you, but I’ve been working on finding you a place to live. I’ve called my cousin Daisha a few times. She has an extra room at her place.”

“She don’t want me,” Erik interrupted. “She didn’t want me the first time…”

“Well, I’ll just call that bitch again!” she suddenly yelled. “With all I’ve done for her ass, she OWES me this!” She breathed in to continue her rant and was suddenly overwhelmed by a coughing fit. It was a deep, rattling cough that shook her rib cage. She clutched the phone to her chest as she coughed repeatedly like a barking dog.

A corrections officer stepped towards her, but she shrunk away and suppressed her coughs, temples bulging in her head.

“I’m good! I’m good!” she wheezed and turned back to the phone. The CO stepped back, generally disinterested. Erik’s face was painted with worry and he leaned in to the glass.

“What is that, mama?” he inquired. “You get that checked out?”

“Yeah, yeah. A+ health care in here. They even leave chocolate on your damn pillows,” she grumbled. “But don’t you worry about me. We’re talking about YOU. I heard you got a job. How are your grades? You staying out of trouble?”

They chatted for a bit. Erik eventually loosened up. It felt good to know his mother was still his ally, even from inside the big house. He’d find a place to live. He’d be fine. Conversation drifted away from pressing issues and shifted towards light hearted topics.

“Is Bunkie still rocking that Jheri Curl?” his mom asked.

“Yeah!” Erik confirmed. “Out here looking like he selling Soul Glow door to door!”

The two of them howled with laughter. Other visitors looked over at them in disapproval. One woman glared at them through her tear stained tissues. Erik curled his lip up at her and turned back to his mother who was still laughing. The honking cough returned and she doubled over.

Before he could ask her if she was alright, the alarm sounded again in two short bursts and a guard announced that their visiting time was over. People began to pack up and shuffle out, but Erik felt as though he was rooted to the spot.

His mother pulled the phone back up to her ear and looked him dead in the eyes.

“You just remember that I got you, baby, okay? I love you and I will always love you…”

She was forced to hang up when a guard grabbed her by the elbow and hoisted her up off of the stool. She continued to look at Erik as she shuffled out of the room. Erik shot up and found the first guard he could.

“Hey. Somebody’s gotta check out my mom. She’s got a bad cough.”

As if a robot, the guard recited to him that only patients with pressing medical emergencies went to the hospital unit. The regular physician would be in next month.

“Next month?” Erik roared, anger boiling up inside of him. “She can’t wait a month. Someone’s gotta see her now!”

“Sir, if you cannot control yourself, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the guard replied monotonously.

“Man, fuck this place!” Erik gathered up his coat and headed towards the door. “You’re just gonna leave a sick woman like that?”

“Any complaints can be filed by mail with the federal…” the voice drifted off as Erik stomped out of the visitation center. He sloshed through the sodden parking lot and wrenched the door to the van open. He got in and slammed the door shut.

Monty shot up in surprise from his reclined position.

“Damn, nigga! Wassup?”

The cigar had fallen out of his mouth and he fished around the floor of the van for it. He found it and looked at it in disgust for a moment before abandoning it out of the window.

“Let’s go home,” Erik growled. His mind was racing between how to get his mom help and how to get her out. He’d completely forgotten about the very pertinent issue of his own living arrangement.

Monty popped his seat back up and turned the engine over. The N.W.A. CD whirred back to life and began to play again. Erik leaned forward and pressed the back button a few times.

 _Fuck the Police_  kicked up in the speakers. Monty looked at him incredulously.

“I already listened to this, man.”

Erik didn’t respond, simply stared straight ahead, plotting.

“Aight. It’s your birthday,” Monty shrugged, and tore off.


	2. Kendria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik returns from the distressing visit with his sick mother. But not everything is bad.

Erik came storming back in to the apartment. He completely ignored CeCe as she scrambled up to greet him and didn’t hear Miss Gale’s protest when he slammed his bedroom door. He began to pace around the room. Jamal took one look at Erik’s seething expression and decided to stay quiet for the first time in his life, sinking back into the depths of the top bunk.

Erik was so filled with rage that he could hardly see. How was he supposed to help his mother if no one would listen to him? How did a doctor coming in once every other week help anyone at all? His mind was racing and angry tears threatened the edges of his vision. No matter how hard he clenched his jaw, he couldn’t keep the tears from breaching his defenses and streaming down his face. Swallowing a sob, Erik climbed dejectedly into the bottom bunk and punched his pillow a few times before sinking in to it and letting the lumpy fabric absorb any and all evidence of his crying.

Miss Gale must have been feeling merciful on his birthday because she gave him a full hour of sulking before she knocked sharply on the door. She pushed it open before Erik could even answer. What was the point of knocking?

“Erik, take your sister to the park,” Miss Gale demanded.

“She’s not his sister! She’s mine!” Jamal interjected.

“Okay,” the matriarch shrugged. “You take her then.”

“I’m not tryna do all that…”

Erik didn’t feel like fighting. He kept his head down as he headed to the living room, hoping Miss Gale wouldn’t notice his reddened face. But who was he kidding? That woman knew everything.

CeCe was sitting so close to the television screen that she could feel the static from the flickering glass on her face. As usual, she was watching The Lion King. She had seen that movie an excessive amount of times and had all of the lines memorized. She learned to operate the VCR exclusively for this film.

“Long live the king!” CeCe recited dramatically, throwing up her hands at the exact moment that Scar murdered his brother.

Erik shrugged his jacket back on, glancing out the window to check that the rain had stopped before holding CeCe’s coat out to her.

“Aight, squirt. Let’s go to the park.”

“Yaaaayyyy!” CeCe squealed, pausing the movie and running over to Erik.

The screen froze on the scene where Simba finds Mufasa dead after the stampede, the grey and white lines of the paused tape jolting every few seconds. Erik winced.

He hated that fucking movie.

CeCe clutched onto Erik’s hand with surprising strength as she dragged him towards the park. Erik struggled to hold on to her as he bopped and weaved around the puddles to which CeCe refused to yield. Her plastic purple rain boots made her invincible, but Erik’s white Air Force 1s were too clean to be subjected to this abuse. He should have changed his shoes. The birthday fit wasn’t worth it.

CeCe stopped abruptly and looked up at him with wide eyes, an idea forming behind them.

“Ewik. Sing the song!”

Erik groaned audibly. He was not going to sing that white ass song in this black ass neighborhood. He refused.

CeCe held fast like some sort of defense attorney or stock trader in the making.

“Sing it!”

Erik sighed and looked around to make sure no one he knew was at the park. Once he was sure the coast was clear, he cleared his throat and began to sing.

“Oh, Cecelia! You’re breaking my heart! You’re shaking my confidence baby. Oh, Cecelia! I’m down on my knees. I’m begging you please to come home.”

“HOOOOOME!” CeCe shouted, pulling him towards the park again. Erik smiled a bit.

She only knew the chorus and Erik was determined to keep it that way. Simon and Garfunkel were some nasty motherfuckers.

The two of them repeated the chorus a few more times, finally reaching the park. CeCe, entirely unfazed by the sodden wood chips, went running towards the swings. Erik leaned against the chain link fence and sighed. His brain was still running a mile a minute, searching for solutions to his mother’s predicament.

“That’s quite the voice you’ve got on you, Stevens,” a voice said in his ear.

Erik whipped around, a stray foot sending the metal fence clattering. Smiling devilishly at him stood Kendria McDonald.

“A regular Marvin Gaye.”

“I don’t know about alla that,” Erik replied, suddenly feeling flustered.

Kendria was one of Erik’s classmates. One of the smartest too. They’d been paired up together on a few class projects this past year, and she’d caught his attention when she cited vibranium as the strongest element.

“Notice anything different about me?” Kendria asked, twirling around.

Erik looked her up and down carefully. Her hair was chemically straightened, her skin was a smooth dark brown, and she wore a tight white t-shirt tucked in to a chunky neon belt low at the hips of her baby phat jeans. She had filled out over the summer and Erik definitely noticed. She was thick.

He swallowed hesitantly, not sure if her new curves were in fact the right answer.

“I got my braces off!” Kendria announced, running her tongue over her smooth, white teeth.

“Wow. Yeah! They look great.”

“EWIK!” CeCe called from the swing set. Her short little legs dangled from the seat as she attempted to gain momentum. She lacked the coordination. “Help!”

Kendria looked up at Erik with wide eyes as he avoided her gaze. “Ewik!” Kendria giggled.

He made his way over to CeCe, Kendria following closely behind, having entered the park. She sat down in the swing directly next to the child.

“And who is this little lady?” she asked.

Erik’s heart dropped. CeCe would definitely give away that they were in foster care if given the chance. The girl was too damn truthful and friendly. Erik had spent years not letting anyone know his true situation and it was all about to come crashing down at the hands of a six-year-old.

“This is CeCe,” Erik answered for her quickly. Maybe if he just started pushing her on the swing, she’d drop it. But CeCe spoke before he could move on that plan.

“I’m Ewik’s sister!”

Erik sighed internally. Thank goodness for this literal babe. The term “foster sister” had never even occurred to her.

“And it’s his birthday!” CeCe announced.

“It’s his birthday?” Kendria asked, matching the excitement on CeCe’s face. Her smile really did look good. CeCe leaned over to the older girl and whisper shouted.

“And you know what – and, and you know what else?”

“What?”

“They’re making a birthday cake for him at home right now and he doesn’t know! It’s a secret. I got to pick the color and it’s purple.”

“Wow!” Kendria gasped. “I love purple! That was a great choice! We’re going to have to keep Erik at the park for a long time.”

“Yeah,” CeCe replied, train of thought gone and legs attempting to swing again. Erik placed his hands on her small back and pushed lightly. Once she grasped the concept of swinging both of her legs at the same time, the two older kids were able to step away.

“So I didn’t know you had a sister and I didn’t know it was your birthday. What else haven’t you told me?” Kendria laughed, sitting on the edge of a plastic slide.

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because I like you, Erik Stevens,” Kendria said matter-of-factly. He felt a sudden lurch in his gut. Did she mean what he thought she meant?

“You’re different than the others,” she expounded. “You seem like you want something else than the usual hum drum around here. And you’re capable of it.”

“Yeah, well I don’t know what that is,” Erik murmured, feeling pulled in to his own head and desperation once again. His mother’s health and the threat of losing his home after today fought for his attention once again.

“You don’t have to know that now.”

There was something about Kendria that made Erik want to tell her everything. About his parents, about Wakanda, about how he had no idea what the fuck he was doing or what he was going to do. He felt as if she would understand. There was also something about her that made him… nervous? Like a happy nervous?

The crunch of wood chips announced a newcomer to the park, and they both looked up as a lithe, blonde woman let her two boys loose on to the playground.

“Aww!” the newcomer cooed, looking over at CeCe. “She’s so cute!”

Erik nodded.

“She looks just like you two!”

Kendria blinked rapidly and whipped her head back. Erik recognized that look and braced himself for a storm. Not only was Kendria incredibly smart, she was quick to anger.

“Excuse me, bitch?”

The blonde stammered, searching rapidly for what she said that was offensive.

“That girl is six years old. We are both seventeen and eighteen! You just think all Black kids around here are popping out babies at eleven, you 90210 looking ass bitch?”

“Kendria,” Erik attempted to get her to stop before she went off the rails.

The woman called out to her boys and frantically picked up her things in preparation to leave the park.

“You’re the reason the rent’s so damn high, you Bally Total Fitness bitch!” Kendria yelled after her as the woman scrambled away. Erik stared at Kendria with eyebrows touching his hair line.

She breathed out in one big puff before returning to her typically calm nature.

“I don’t take kindly to microagression,” she explained. Erik had never heard the word for it, but he knew the experience. The snide little comments, the stereotypes, the way of thinking that more effectively kept people down than the loud racism.

“You know you’re allowed to be angry about it. You can put your anger in their face just like they put their privilege in yours. This isn’t the model U.N. You don’t have to be nice.”

“I’ve always been angry,” Erik confirmed. “I’m angry all the time.”

“Well my birthday gift to you is permission to feel it!” Kendria laughed.

A fat drop of water hit Erik in the face and Kendria shrieked as it began to rain again.

“Oh my god. My hair!”

As if protecting her from a barrage of bullets, Erik instinctually grabbed Kendria and pulled her underneath the playground structure and out of the sudden downpour. CeCe splashed around happily in her rain boots.

Kendria looked up at Erik with surprise. He had lifted her thick self with barely any effort. She eyed his muscular frame before averting her eyes in sudden bashfulness. Erik also struggled to look at her directly in the small space the two of them were wedged in. Luckily, the rain cleared just as quickly as it came on and they were able to awkwardly peel themselves from one another.

“I have to go. My mother will kill me if I mess up this hair.” Kendria leaned around him and waved goodbye to CeCe. “I’ll call you tonight. Your number’s in the school directory right?”

Erik’s heart leapt.

“Uh… you know what? I’ll call you on my cell after nine when my minutes are free.” Erik couldn’t take the chance of Kendria calling his home number and having Miss Gale picking up, or worse… Jamal. Not only would that shatter his façade, but they would definitely embarrass him.

“Sounds good. Happy birthday,” Kendria smiled and squeezed his hand quickly. “Bye.”

Moments after Kendria’s hand left his, CeCe’s small one slipped in.

“Ewik,” CeCe tugged at him. “We have to go home NOW!” She practically dragged him back to the apartment building.

Erik was already practicing how he would pretend to be surprised by the cake CeCe had loudly told Kendria about, but he practically burst out laughing when she screamed “SURPRISE” before he had even opened the door.

“Happy Birthday, Erik,” Miss Gale smiled proudly. Even Jamal was upright. CeCe danced around the room like she had ants in her pants.

Momentarily, all of the fear and unease melted away. It may have been messy and awkward, but this was one of the best birthdays he’d had in a long time.

–


End file.
